


you've had me all along

by sunlightdances (glowinghorizons)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 10:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16830478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/sunlightdances
Summary: You’re so pissed that you’re even in this situation, your hands are shaking from adrenaline and anger. Huffing to yourself, you grab your phone out of your back pocket and dial one of two numbers you know by heart.





	you've had me all along

“What the fuck are they waiting for?” Your friend hisses at you, and you shrug, jaw tense, looking out the small hole in the door of the cabin you’re holed up in.

There’s four, maybe five demons in the yard, clearly not happy that you showed up and busted up their makeshift kidnapping ring. They’re just hanging out though, showing no signs of attacking, and you can’t stand much more of this waiting.

“We have to get out of here.” You tell her, “We’re sitting ducks. We have to at least try to sneak out of here.” 

“How the hell are we going to do that?” She asks. “You ran out of holy water an hour ago and I’ve only got enough to give someone a nice face mist.” 

You curse, forgetting that the the rest of your stash is in your car. In the yard. Where you can’t get to it. Because, you know. Demons.

“God dammit.” You curse.

You’re so pissed that you’re even in this situation, your hands are shaking from adrenaline and anger. Huffing to yourself, you grab your phone out of your back pocket and dial one of the two numbers you know by heart. 

He picks up on the second ring. “Hey.” 

“Dean.” You say, your voice urgent. You can practically hear him sit a little straighter, listen a little more closely. “I–” You shut your eyes, angry at yourself again. “I need some backup.” 

.

.

An hour later, you look outside again, and there’s no one. They’re gone, and you’re immediately on edge. You turn to look at your friend. 

Her face is pale, her eyes dark with fear. You don’t see this look on her often, and it’s so unsettling. You hate this, and immediately the guilt starts to claw at you. What if you had planned better? What if you had remembered all your fucking supplies instead of leaving them in the trunk?

“We can’t go out there. They could be anywhere–” She says, and she’s cut off by the sound of a roaring engine. 

“Oh, thank god.” You whisper, and race to the window, pulling back the curtain cautiously. 

“What if it’s a trap?” 

“We’ll test them when they get inside.” At her look of doubt, you plead with her. “Look, this could be our only chance to get out of here in one piece. I– this is my fault. I’m going to get us out of here.” 

She looks like she’s going to protest, but she stops when there are three sharp raps on the door. 

Sam calls your name, and you shut your eyes briefly at the panic in his voice. You feel so stupid. This is never how you wanted to rely on them – having to rescue you like some kind of rookie. 

When you finally open the door, your friend is there immediately with what little holy water she has left, splashing Sam and Dean both in the face. 

Sam sputters a little bit, but Dean just stands there, jaw clenched and face carefully blank. He’s got his gun at the ready, and you’re distracted for a second by his broad shoulders inside that jacket. 

“Get inside,” you hiss, after you’re sure they’re not possessed. You grab a handful of flannel, one in each arm, and pull them inside the doorway, slamming the door shut and making sure the salt line and devil’s traps are still intact.

Dean has a bag slung over his shoulder, and you could weep at the sight of it. “Oh, bless you.” You say, “My bag is in the trunk–” 

“Can I talk to you?” He interrupts, and you freeze, wondering why you feel like a child who’s just been told they’re grounded.

“Now’s not really a good time, Dean,” you say, forcing a smile. 

“We checked the perimeter,” Sam offers. “Whatever made them head out, it doesn’t look like any of them are hanging around anymore.” 

You groan. “I wanted–” You drop your head in defeat. “I wanted to make sure we got them all. They–”

“They kidnapped people, innocent people, and possessed them. For literally no reason other than to wreak havoc on this town.” Your friend fills in the gaps. “They need to be exorcised.” 

“Look, you don’t have a lot of options. We can come back when we’re better equipped and finish this, but right now we need to get out of here before they come back with more manpower.” Dean says, his eyes dark. 

He takes a couple steps past you, heading to one of the bedrooms in the small cabin, and he grabs your elbow on his way past. 

“Be right back.” You tell the others, and Sam smiles softly at you, apologetically. You take a deep breath and follow Dean into a back bedroom, fully prepared for the lecture of a lifetime. You grit your teeth at the idea, but hope that once he gets his protectiveness out of his system, he’ll leave it alone. 

You already feel guilty enough - you don’t need him to add to how shitty you’re feeling.

Once you’re inside, you turn around, ready to defend yourself, but you stop when he steps closer, his large hands immediately framing your face, turning your head gently to one side and then the other, green eyes intense as he scans you for injury. 

It’s the silence that startles you. You’re used to him yelling first, thinking later. This kind of… silent affection? It freaks you out, to be honest. (You tell yourself you’re not concentrating on the way his hands are so gentle on you, the way his eyes look a little dangerous, like he’s torn between wanting to hold you close and devour you at the same time)

“This is the part where you yell.” You whisper, unable to handle the loaded silence a minute longer.

He shakes his head, the movement so subtle that if he weren’t so close, you would have missed it. His hands drop away from you, and you immediately miss his warmth. “You don’t listen to me anyway. I’m not going to waste my breath.” 

“I feel like an idiot.” Your confession rings out in the tense air between you.

“You’re alive. She’s alive.” Dean tilts his head towards the other room. “Sounds like a win to me.” 

“We didn’t finish our job. We didn’t do what we came here to do. Because I was careless.” 

Dean rolls his eyes as he takes a step backwards, away from you, sitting on a rickety looking chair in the corner by the door. “You made one mistake. Look – I admit when you called I–”

“You freaked out?”

“I was _worried_. There’s a difference.” He says, a playful glare shot in your direction. “But we’ve all fucked up once in awhile. You’re fine.” 

“You looked pretty angry when you got here,” you point out.

“Thought you were hurt.” He says gruffly, not meeting your eyes. 

You feel a warm flush all over at the thought of him racing in the Impala to get here. You don’t know why but lately– lately something’s been different, and you’re all at once terrified and thrilled to figure out what it is. 

“We should get back out there.” You say softly after a minute, and he nods. 

“Yeah. I–” he stands up, “Listen, kid. Just– next time bring your shit with you so I don’t have to worry about you, okay?” 

You nod. “Trust me, I’m never going anywhere without my duffel ever again.”

He smiles at you. “Good to hear. Let’s go.” 

You head back out into the main room, Dean’s hand hovering over the small of your back, and after he and Sam check the perimeter one more time, they get you to your car without incident. You’ve got to drop your friend at her house so she can “sleep for the next two days”, but after that, you’re free to head back to the Bunker to stay with the Winchesters for a few days. 

You stop at a gas station to fill up and get some snacks for the drive when your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you frown when you see it’s from Dean. You only went separate ways an hour ago.

_Just a general PSA to let you know if it was just me and you, I would have kissed you senseless at that cabin._

Your heart starts racing. This can’t be real, can it? You don’t have time to wonder any more because another message comes in quickly. 

_If I’m way out of line, let’s just forget this ever happened._

You bite your lip, struggling to decide how to respond. The _click_ from the gas pump lets you know you’re finished filling up, and it buys you more time to think as you replace the gas pump and go inside to get something to drink.

When you come back out to the car, your phone is lit up again, and you see another text from Dean.

_I’m sorry if I freaked you out, kid. Gonna go die of embarrassment now. Bye!_

You can’t help it - a laugh escapes you, and you quickly type out a response.

**_No, wait! Sorry, I was busy_. **

A beat, and then a buzz. 

_You don’t have to take pity on me. I can handle it_

**_Not pity. Kinda interested, tbh._ **

Your finger hovers over the send button before you actually send it, wondering if you’re really going to do this. Flirt with Dean Winchester? Not unheard of. In fact, some outsiders looking in may say that one of the foundations of your friendship was the decidedly flirty banter the two of you partake in on the regular.

This though? This was on an entirely different level. 

_…You’re gonna have to spell this out real clearly for me, sweetheart_

You roll your eyes. Of course he’s going to make you actually say it instead of giving you an easy out. 

**_I think you should tell me more about what you wanted to do in the cabin._ **

You press send before you can talk yourself out of it, adrenaline and nerves coursing through your bloodstream. You feel giddy, almost, especially because you’re going to be seeing him face to face in a few hours. 

_Once I knew you were ok? Push you up against the nearest wall and kiss that look off your face._

_**What look? (And I probably would have let you)** _

_That *look*. The one you get every time you think I’m gonna yell at you and you can’t wait to give it right back._

_**You like it.** _

_You really have no idea. How long until you get here?_

Still feeling a thrill at his words, you shiver in anticipation when you get into the car and buckle your seat belt. 

**_2 hours, give or take. No texting and driving._ **

_I’ll just have to leave you some messages to look forward to when you get here. ;)_

Your entire body flushes. How are you supposed to concentrate on driving when you know he’s going to be sexting you the entire way to the Bunker? It’s going to turn into an almost Pavlovian response, you think, embarrassed at yourself. 

You’ve got to get a grip. Show Dean Winchester he’s not hot shit.

(He is, though, and he knows it.)

.

.

Two hours later and you’re practically tearing down the dirt road leading to the garage. You made the mistake of looking at your phone during a well-timed traffic jam, and now you’re almost flooring it. 

Dean didn’t let up. 

You had 6 text messages when you looked, and each one of them sent fire coursing through your veins. 

_You know that thing you do when you’re thinking? When you bite your lip? Makes me so hard watching you._

_When you get here, I’m going to make you forget any other person you’ve ever been with._

_Sam’s gone out to meet a friend. I didn’t ask… don’t care. All I care about is that I can make you scream as loud as I want and he won’t be here to hear it._

_You gotta know I wanted you the very first day I met you, kid. This won’t be a one-time thing. Hope you’re up for it._

Jesus, you think, he’s wordy. You kind of love it, though. Dean’s a closet nerd - you should have known he’d be one to send you all kinds of equally hot and sappy things via text. 

The last two texts waiting for you were the ones that had you practically racing to get there, though.

_I know you’re driving but while I’m pouring my guts out here… might as well tell you that this isn’t just sex for me, and if that freaks you out and you want to call the whole thing off, I get it_

_You’re too good for me anyway._

So, now you’re equal parts turned on and mad as hell. How is he going to light you up with those texts and then try to act like he doesn’t even want you to follow through? Why does he always have to be so damn self-deprecating?! 

You want to scream. You don’t, though, just get to the Bunker as fast as you can so you can talk some sense into the guy. You know, verbally. Also non-verbally, if you have your way.

You pull up to the garage, relieved to see the door partially open. Dean hasn’t shut you out entirely, then. You take your time getting your bag and supplies out of the trunk, buying time to think about what you’re going to say (or do) when you see him. 

The door to the bunker squeaks open, and you glance up through your lashes to see him standing there, looking hopeful and nervous, but with still a bit of fire in those green eyes of his. 

“Gonna slap me?” He asks, and you narrow your eyes, hauling your duffel over your shoulder.

“I should.” You say shortly, pushing past him and into the corridor. You drop your bag, turning around to poke him in the chest, _hard_. “What are you playing at?” 

His eyes go wide. “What?” 

“How are you going to wind me up like that the entire drive here and then just– just _end_ it?” 

He’s clearly speechless, and you take a minute to appreciate a speechless Dean Winchester before you move, pushing him hard against the wall and kissing him for all you’re worth. 

For his part, he responds quickly, hands falling to your hips and pulling you close, a breath shuddering through him as you lick at the seam of his lips, urging him to open his mouth beneath yours. 

“Wait, wait, wait–” He says, hands floundering uselessly as it seems like he’s trying both to tug you closer and push you away. 

“Are you fucking serious?” You gasp, “Dean Winchester, if you don’t fuck me in the next 10 minutes, I’m going to–”

“I don’t want to fuck this up.” He says roughly, hands grabbing your wrists before you can smack him in the chest. “You’re too important.” 

You soften, a little, but arousal is still an undercurrent there, making your eyes catch on the darkness of his stubble and the glint in his eyes that makes you think he’s not as opposed to this as he’s trying to act. 

“The only way you could fuck this up is if you sent me a bunch of dirty messages and then tried to act like it never happened. Oh, wait…” you say, smirking at him, and he rolls his eyes, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“I knew you couldn’t reply, but I kept thinking I was making a mistake, and I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself if I–” 

You cut him off by kissing him again, and it’s slow, and sensuous, and perfect. Everything you always thought it would be. When you pull away, his brow is furrowed and his eyes are lidded… he’s looking at you like he can’t believe any of this is real. 

“Now. If I remember correctly, you said something about forgetting everyone I’ve ever been with.” 

His eyes darken and he grins. “I believe I did.”

“Care to make good on that promise, Winchester?” You yelp when he takes a step forward, hoisting you over his shoulder. When you get to his bedroom and he sets you down, you cup his cheek in your palm. “And for what it’s worth? I don’t want it to be a one-time thing.”

“Good.” He says, his voice like gravel, stubble scratching your neck as he starts to plant kisses down the long arc of your jaw. 

“Do you always have to have the last word?” You wonder out loud, and he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. 

“S’been working for me so far.” 

You simultaneously laugh and melt into him. “Idiot.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my work on [Tumblr!](http://sunlightdances.tumblr.com)


End file.
